Chapter 19 — Potters and the Last Fire Season

The Last Fire Season bowls are displayed in a small riverside restaurant, without large advertising signs. The owner puts them on the table and lets customers use them for a week before deciding to buy more.

This idea came from Linh herself, who wanted to find a way to realistically verify whether the new product could really stand up in everyday life, instead of just relying on orders based on the brand story. She contacted a familiar restaurant along the river, where the owner, a woman named Thao, agreed to try it for free.

“If customers like it, I'll buy more,” Ms. Thao said when Linh brought the sample. "If not, I'll return it, no problem. I just want to try to see if the bowl is durable and suitable for my restaurant's food."

Linh immediately agreed, seeing this as a valuable real-life testing opportunity, different from the controlled environment of exhibitions or markets.

The person who came to try it did not know the story of the oven. They only commented that the bowl was light, kept moderately warm and that each bowl had a different glaze. A boy chose the most crooked one because it fit his hand. An old lady asked if she could buy the exact one she was using.

Linh, along with Minh, spent a whole week stopping by the shop during peak hours to observe how customers actually interact with the product, not to sell directly but to learn. They sat in a discreet corner, recording every reaction and every unintentional comment from the guest.

A middle-aged man, after finishing eating, picked up the bowl to shine it under the restaurant lights and called Ms. Thao over to ask. "Where did this bowl come from? It looks strange, not like industrial bowls sold in the market."

"From the pottery factory in that village," Ms. Thao replied, not saying anything more about the story behind it, just as agreed with Linh to ensure the objectivity of the test.

“It must be very expensive,” the man said, but continued to look at the bowl with interest.

Linh stood behind the counter, listening to comments not written by the marketing department. Minh records the temperature of the dish, its durability after washing and the areas where the enamel easily scratches. The two of them argued with the customer about a small detail as if they were correcting a general design.

One time, a guest complained mildly about one of the bowls having a slightly uneven bottom, preventing it from standing very firmly on a flat table surface. Linh, unable to hold back, stepped forward to ask for more details, even though she tried to remain a silent observer.

“Where is it rough?” she asked, her voice as friendly as that of a curious waitress.

The customer pointed to the bottom, where there was a small bump left by a handprint that had not been completely smoothed out. Linh took note immediately, realizing this was a point that needed improvement in the product finishing process, even though it came from the "fingerprint" feature that the Bach Tho line is always proud of.

At the end of the week, the shop owner ordered thirty more sets. He said customers came back because they wanted to find the bowl they used last time.

When Linh returned at the end of the testing week to collect official feedback, Thao welcomed her with a bright smile. “Order thirty more sets for me,” she said immediately. “A few days ago, a customer came back and asked for the exact bowl they used last week, thinking I was hiding it specifically for them.”

Linh laughed at the story, feeling a genuine joy that was different from the excitement of receiving large orders from previous wholesale customers - this is proof. vivid proof that the product really touches the end user, not only thanks to the brand story but also through the daily use experience.

Son proposed to push the price higher. Linh did not object, but requested that the reasons be made public: land fees, fire fees, wages and the portion reserved for the furnace repair fund. The new price is written under each set, not hidden in a private message.

“As demand increases, prices may increase,” Son proposed in the order summary meeting, offering a new price about twenty percent higher than before.

“I'm not against price increases,” Linh said, “but I want people to know exactly why prices are increasing, not simply because demand exceeds supply.”

She proposed a new way of presenting prices, clearly listing each component cost — land price, firewood cost, workers' wages, and a portion for long-term furnace maintenance and repair funds. This detailed price list is printed in small print and pasted right below each set of products on display, instead of just showing the last number.

“Why make it so complicated?” Son asked, somewhat not fully understanding the intention.

“Because I want customers to understand, they don't just buy a bowl,” Linh explains. "They are contributing to maintaining a pottery kiln, a traditional craft, a fund to ensure the workshop survives for a long time. That transparency, I believe, will create a much more loyal type of customer than just following the scarcity mentality."

Minh asked her if she felt more relieved after this week of testing. Linh replied yes, but was still cautious - just one restaurant ordering more goods was not enough to say the factory was safe, it only proved that the current direction was worth continuing to pursue further.

“Thirty sets is a good start,” Linh told Minh as they packed orders for the riverside restaurant together. "But it's still just one shop, a small area. We need more points of sale like that to truly stabilize."

“Step by step,” Minh repeated Mr. Phuc's familiar saying, making both of them laugh.

On the way home, Minh drove Linh on an old motorbike, the back of which still smelled of the new earthy smell of the bowls that had just been packed for next week's delivery.

The road to the village runs along the riverbank, the sunset dyes both the water surface and both sides of the road golden. Minh drove slowly, so Linh could admire the scenery, her hands tightly holding the customer feedback notes she had collected all week, a simple asset but with many layers of meaning to the workshop's upcoming plans.

“How far do you think you can go with this path?” Linh asked, breaking the comfortable silence between the two.

“I don't know,” Minh replied honestly. "But I think the important thing is not how far we go, but going in the right direction. And I believe we are going in the right direction."

Linh smiled, looking out at the river reflecting the sunset, feeling a rare peace of mind spreading in her heart, even though she knew clearly that the journey ahead still had many challenges waiting, no less difficult than what they had overcome together.

Returning to the workshop, they saw Ha still sitting in the office, the desk lamp shining down on the stack of papers she was synthesizing. When she saw two people walking in with excited faces, Ha looked up and asked immediately.

"What's going on? Did Ms. Thao order more?"

“Thirty feet,” Linh replied, unable to hide her smile. “And customers come back to find the right one ever used.”

Ha shouted with joy, quickly closed the half-opened notebook, stood up and hugged Linh in a rare moment of emotional expression from her cousin who always remained calm and discreet. “I'm recalculating this week's financial report,” Ha said as she let go of Linh. "With this order, I can fully pay the loan interest next month, no need to borrow more."

That news caused all three people to sit around the table under string lights, reviewing the entire financial situation after nearly a month of operating under the new cooperative model. The numbers, although still modest compared to initial expectations, have begun to show a clear positive trend compared to the first weeks of struggle and deprivation.

“If I keep this pace,” Ha calculated, typing quickly on an old pocket calculator, “within three months, I can start setting up a reserve fund, not only enough to pay off debt but also invest in necessary new equipment.”

Mr. Phuc, hearing the cheerful noise, came out of the inner room and curiously asked what was going on that made everyone so excited. When Ha informed him of the good news, he stood still for a moment, then nodded slowly, his eyes filled with emotion that was hard to hide.

“Dad still remembers,” he said, his voice low, somewhat trembling, “there were nights when I lay there calculating over and over again, not knowing how to pay the next month's interest in full. Now listening to you guys talk about setting up a reserve fund, I feel like I'm daydreaming."

"It's not a dream, father," Linh replied, holding his calloused hand tightly. “This is a real result, from the real effort of everyone who has contributed together over the past weeks.”

That night, before going to sleep, Linh sat at her old desk and wrote a short line in her personal notebook: "This week, for the first time in a long time, I thought about the future of the factory without feeling scared, just excited." She closed the notebook, put the customer feedback notes on the table to give to Ha to compile tomorrow morning, then fell asleep with a relief she hadn't felt in a long time, since before she left the village eight years ago.